Keeping It Together
by WhitR
Summary: [set in Season 5, post Who Shot Sherlock] Greg struggles to cope in the aftermath of a murder-suicide that he witnessed and begins to wonder if he really is cut out for a job as a CSI. Just when Greg thinks couldn't get any worse, he comes face to face with the family of the victim he watched die.
1. Chapter 1

**I've had this idea floating around in my head for a while now after watching older episodes of CSI so I decided to roll with it since it wouldn't go away. It's my first attempt at a CSI fic, so there's a chance the characters may be a little OOC at times. **

**Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own CSI or any of its recognizable characters, places, etc. I can only take credit for the characters of Ian Culverson, Ashley Newton, Hannah Newton, and any other characters that are not originally part of the series.  
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"No offense, Greg, but you look like hell," Nick Stokes commented as he entered the break room.

"Thanks for noticing," Greg Sanders replied sarcastically. "You try looking good after just a couple hours of sleep and working a double shift."

Any other time, Nick would have tried to make a joke in reply to lighten the mood. Not this time. His friend was obviously not in the mood for joking. The younger man looked beyond exhausted. Dark circles under his eyes proved Greg hadn't been joking about the little bit of sleep he managed to get. Nick noticed something else off about him as Greg tried to ignore him and finish eating his lunch.

Greg kept his attention on the sandwich on the paper plate in front of him. He had only taken a few bites before Nick showed up. His appetite was long gone. It was almost nonexistent anymore. The last few days had been a struggle for Greg, and food was one of the last things he wanted. What little bit of his lunch he had eaten threatened to come back up. He desperately hoped Nick couldn't tell how much his hands were shaking. In an attempt to hide that detail, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at Nick.

"You okay, man?" Nick asked, genuinely concerned. "About what happened the other day... I'm—"

"If you tell me you're sorry," Greg snapped. "I'll _make_ you sorry."

Nick had never heard Greg sound so agitated before. Of course, Greg had every right to be annoyed. Nick knew that almost everyone had probably asked Greg if he was okay or told them they were sorry. It was almost a reflex for some after one of their own had been shot at while at a crime scene. Especially when that person was like everyone's little brother on the team. Greg truly was like Nick's little brother, and Nick couldn't shake the feeling of knowing that Greg could've been killed out in the field. The dangers outside the lab were why he had been a little scared for Greg when the younger man wanted to become a CSI.

"Okay, I won't say it then," Nick leaned against the doorframe and looked at him. "What I will say is if you need someone to talk to, you can talk to me. You're not the only one on the team who's been shot at, you know. Things happen at crime scenes that we don't have control over. You couldn't have known what would happen when you went down into that basement."

"Don't, Nick," Greg's voice shook slightly. "Don't try to make me feel better about what happened. I made a mistake that nearly cost me my life, and it _did_ cost Ashley Newton her life. You could've done something to save her. All I did was stand there."

"Greg, you can't compare yourself to me," Nick stepped inside the room and closed the door so their conversation couldn't be heard by passersby. "You're not—"

"Not what?" Greg demanded. "Not good enough to do the job?"

"No, that's not what I meant," Nick tried to keep his voice steady when all he wanted to do was yell at the younger man to snap out of it. "You're still not accustomed to being out in the field. Other than the lab explosion, you've not had too many experiences to show just how dangerous a job here can be. It can be a lot to handle."

"So what you're saying is I'm not cut out for the job because I can't handle it," Greg said. He wasn't questioning Nick.

"That's not what I said," Nick frowned. "What's gotten into you?"

"When I froze up the other day, I thought about the night a few years ago when we had to process that bus crash," Greg's voice cracked slightly. "I've never forgotten that night."

Nick knew what night Greg was referring to. A bus had run off the road, leaving multiple injured and dead victims. A call was made for all available personnel to come help. Greg showed up despite the call being for only those with field training. Nick had been surprised to see the lab tech at the scene. Then their supervisor Gil Grissom had pointed out the major detail of the 'all hands on deck' call that Greg had failed to realize. Greg pleaded with their boss to let him help. So Grissom obliged, sticking Greg with Nick.

"The first reason I won't forget it is because of how you looked at me when Grissom said I was to work with you," Greg's voice was barely audible. "You didn't want me there. All you did was ask me about having a warmer jacket. You later told me I wasn't qualified to be out there after I froze when the bus driver started coughing up blood. I knew I wasn't qualified. I came because I thought I could at least do something useful, but all I did was prove I didn't belong out there."

Greg still saw the look Nick gave him when he pointed out that he didn't exactly have the right jacket for that cold night. Greg had been shivering so hard by the time he started taking notes for Nick that it had been a miracle his handwriting was even legible. Then when he was handed evidence to take back to the lab, Grissom had pointed out Greg should have been wearing gloves. It was all a reminder to Greg that he should have stayed in the lab.

"The second reason is what happened when we were talking to the bus driver," Greg continued when Nick never said anything. "I froze up then too when something went wrong. He coughed up blood, and you were yelling at me to go get help. But I couldn't do a damn thing but stand there!"

"I told you then that it was okay," Nick cut in. "And in your defense, I probably shouldn't have yelled at you. You'd never experienced something like that before. Greg, I don't get why you're bringing that up now. That was a long time ago. You've come a long way since then."

"I still manage to find ways to screw things up," Greg heaved a sigh. "I could've saved Ashley Newton."

"Or you could've ended up in the morgue too," Nick commented darkly. "Look, it was a horrible situation you were in. You can't blame yourself for what happened to that girl. Ian Culverson was an evil bastard who, thankfully, is dead now. He's the one responsible. It's just a shame he took an innocent girl with him as his last act."

The events from three days before hit Greg like a train. He closed his eyes in an attempt to keep his emotions at bay. That was the wrong thing to do. Everything about the case crossed his mind.

_Nineteen year old Ashley Newton went missing while returning to her apartment after a night out with a couple friends. When she didn't show up for work the next aafternoon, a friend knew something wasn't right and went to the police station to report her missing. The police later received a tip that the person who was possibly responsible was someone tied to a kidnapping case that went cold due to lack of evidence two years prior. The crime lab then dug out the files from the older case to figure out if there was any way the suspect then—Ian Culverson—was indeed involved. Nothing gave them any leads._

_Twenty-four hours after the girl was first reported missing, the big break came in the form of surveillance footage from the service station across from the apartment complex. It showed the teen walking along the sidewalk in front of the complex shortly after midnight. A car rolled up beside her and stopped. The driver got out and walked around to the girl. He roughly grabbed her by the arm and aimed a pistol at her. He forced her into his car and drove away. The footage was just good enough to get the license plate number. The car belonged to Ian Culverson. _

_Police were dispatched to Culverson's home on the outskirts of Las Vegas. Once they searched the premises and determined Culverson wasn't home, it was up to the crime scene investigators to search the home in hopes of finding a clue that could lead them to wherever Culverson had taken the girl. Grissom had sent Greg along with fellow CSI Warrick Brown on the search for evidence since Greg since the team were all stretched pretty thin working on various cases. Plus, it would give Greg a chance to prove himself since he had recently passed his final proficiency test to become a CSI. Three police officers were waiting outside Culverson's home. Greg noted that the car they had seen in the surveillance footage wasn't in the driveway. In fact, no car was in the driveway. The officers told Warrick and Greg that there were no signs of Culverson or the missing girl. _

_Warrick and Greg split up once inside the two-story home, with Greg going to check out the rooms downstairs as Warrick went upstairs. It was pure luck that Greg stumbled upon the door that led to a basement. It was located in a back room that, to anyone else, would have looked like an ordinary office. The door opened from the opposite direction behind the wall and was hidden behind a bookcase that had almost unnoticeable furniture movers under each corner for easy movement. It was left just far enough to the left to allow someone on the other side of the door to reach a few fingers beside the shelf to slide it over. Greg would have missed it if it hadn't been for one thing. The faint female voice that cried out for help from behind the door. Greg reacted without thinking, easily shoving the bookshelf aside to run down the stairs on the other side of the door. Once at the bottom of those stairs, he came face to face with a nightmare in the barely lit room. Ian Culverson stood in the middle of the room with an arm around Ashley Newton's neck and a pistol pressed to her temple with the other hand. _

_Greg tried to reason with Culverson even though he knew it was futile. Culverson knew he was cornered, which was why he had hidden in the basement. Ashley cried out as Culverson pressed the barrel of the gun harder against the side of her head. Greg couldn't move from his spot at the bottom of the stairs. Ashley looked at him as though she thought he would save her. But Greg couldn't save her. He never carried a gun with him. He had no weapon to even try to take Culverson down on his own. _

"_Please, do something," she cried plaintively. Her strength was almost gone and she couldn't even make an attempt to get away on her own. "Please… help me. He'll kill me if you don't."_

_Still, Greg couldn't do anything. He couldn't even reply to her pleas for help._

"_What's the matter," the man studied Greg, reading the name on his CSI vest. He leaned in closer to the teen's ear. "Girl, you should remember the name Sanders. That's the name of the man who was too afraid to save you."_

_Before Greg could even formulate a reply, Culverson fired a shot. At first, Greg thought he had shot Ashley, then he realized the girl was still alive. It took a split second for his panicked mind to register the pain in his upper left arm. Greg staggered a step back in shock. The gunshot alerted the officers on the scene as well as Warrick that Culverson was indeed on the property._

"_Please, CSI Sanders," Ashley's voice was barely audible. The teen was scared out of her mind. "Please, save me."_

"_Oh, my dear," Culverson chuckled. "He won't save you. He's too chicken shit to do anything. Such a shame you were found by the most cowardly member of the LVPD. Look at him. He'd be shaking in his boots if he was wearing any." _

_Culverson suddenly raised the gun to his own temple and pulled Ashley's head closer to his. The girl had no fight left. Greg heard his backup running through the house toward the door that led to the hidden basement and sent up a silent prayer they could help diffuse the situation and save the girl._

"_CSI Sanders," Culverson grinned wickedly before laughing derisively. "You know, I might've spared her life if you hadn't come down here. Hell, I might've actually given her a chance if you'd made some sort of attempt to save her. The scar from that gunshot wound will be a perfect, permanent reminder of what a failure you were tonight. Say goodbye, Ashley."_

_Greg finally snapped out of his daze. But it was too late. One more shot fired._

"_No!" Greg screamed as both Culverson and Ashley dropped to the floor in a growing puddle of blood. _

_The officers rushed past. Everything became a blur. Someone wanted to know why the house hadn't been cleared properly. Another voice demanded to know what the hell happened. Greg felt a hand on his shoulder. Someone asked him about the blood on his left arm. All Greg could do was stand there, looking at the two people on the floor. Culverson had fired a shot through his head and the bullet had gone through Ashley's too. His last act was a murder-suicide that had played out just feet in front of Greg._

"I didn't alert Warrick or the officers on the scene that I found the door," Greg said bitterly. "I heard her cry out for help, and I ran down those stairs without even thinking. I saw him with that gun aimed at her head, and I froze. I couldn't yell for help. I couldn't do anything."

Greg's right hand moved up to hold onto his left bicep. Nick hated to see him so shaken up. Only a couple weeks as an official CSI, and Greg had already been shot and witnessed something that nobody should ever see. Despite being told to take a few days off, Greg showed up for his night shift the next day after a psyche evaluation from the department psychologist. Nick felt for his younger friend. He knew how hard it was to deal with such difficult situations. While everyone else had tried to get Greg to go back home instead of coming into work, Nick was the only one who really agreed with Greg's decision. Sometimes being home alone, with nothing but thoughts as company, wasn't the best idea. Being back at work retained that bit of normalcy for someone after a traumatic experience.

"I'm surprised Ecklie didn't just fire me when I came in yesterday morning," Greg laughed quietly to himself. "We all know he's wanted me gone since the first day I got here. He knows that I went down those stairs both without alerting anyone and unarmed."

Nick scoffed at the mention of the assistant director of the crime lab. Conrad Ecklie seemed to have a dislike of nearly everyone and had recently split up the team in a move that Nick felt was to spite Grissom. He knew how much Greg's crazy antics had driven Ecklie crazy when Greg was still the resident DNA lab tech. While Greg had driven Nick crazy on multiple occasions when he first arrived, Nick had to admit that he didn't mind. Greg had always been able to make them laugh no matter what kind of case the team was working on.

But now, Nick wasn't sure he would ever see Greg laugh again.

"About that…" Nick frowned. "When are you going to start carrying a gun with you? Because by now, you definitely know that a CSI can be a target too. You'll eventually get to work a scene solo. How will you defend yourself if something happens?"

"I've got two guns right here," Greg held up his arms, flexing his muscles in an attempt at a lame joke. Nick noticed the lack of a smile that Greg normally had when making such horrible jokes.

"Man," Nick shook his head and managed a small laugh. "I've seen praying mantises with more muscle than that."

Greg lowered his arms and stared down at the table. Nick walked over to where Greg sat. He rested a hand on the younger CSI's shoulder.

"Are you sure you're okay enough to be back at work like this?" Nick questioned. "There's no point in running yourself into the ground. You look like you could use a break. Why don't you go home for a while and get some rest?"

"Why won't you all leave me alone?" Greg suddenly stood up, pushing Nick away.

He headed for the door. All he wanted was to get out and get away from everyone who tried to get him to talk about what had happened. He had talked enough about it with the department psychologist before he was cleared to return to work. However, he kept some information to himself because he knew that it would have only resulted in more required trips to the psychologist and probably more time off work.

"Greg," Nick warned. "If there's something you need to say about what happened, you can tell me. I swear to you I won't tell anyone else. It'll stay between us."

Greg never answered. He heard Nick call his name as he left the break room, but he didn't stop walking. All he wanted was to get away. He expected Nick to follow him, to keep trying to get him to talk. A quick glance over his shoulder proved him wrong.

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**Yeah, I know this seems like it ends in an odd place. But the truth is this chapter was so long that I had to find somewhere near the middle to split it. Reviews are greatly appreciated! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, this chapter ended up a lot longer than I expected. But I guess that's a good thing, right? **

**SandieBrody & Lil Badger 101 - Thanks for the reviews! **

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"Greg!"

That wasn't Nick's voice calling out to him that time. Greg immediately stopped to turn around and face Catherine Willows. He almost considered ignoring her in hopes she would leave him alone.

"What, Catherine?" he asked a little too harshly. The older woman seemed taken aback by his tone. "Sorry. Rough day. What do you need?"

"Oh, nothing," Catherine replied quickly. "I, uh… I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You know why," Catherine said bluntly. "You shouldn't even be at work. They should've given you the rest of the week off."

"Catherine," Greg looked at her. "I came back because I wanted to. Besides, I was shot in the arm. I can still do my job. I'm fine."

"You shouldn't have come back to work so soon. You need to go home and get some rest."

"No offense, Cath," he glared at the older woman. "But you're not my mom. Don't tell me what I need to do!"

The blonde opened and closed her mouth as she tried to find a way to respond. Greg had never spoken to her like that before. She knew he wasn't inherently angry at her. His anger was more at himself and the fact people had suddenly begun treating him differently.

"I'm just worried about you," Catherine told him honestly. "We all are."

"You guys are still babying me," Greg said bitterly. Tears stung his eyes. "You all see me as that goofy kid who started out in the DNA lab. None of you think I can handle being a CSI."

"You're wrong," Catherine replied. Her tone was firm enough to make Greg realize he had struck a chord with her. "In all my years here, I have never seen someone work as hard as you have. No matter how much stuff we piled on you in the lab, you always did it. You rarely complained. When Grissom first told me about you wanting to become a CSI, I was as anxious as he was to see how you'd do in the field."

"You were?" Greg asked. His anger slowly faded into curiosity.

"We both want to see you succeed," Catherine smiled at him. "But we're afraid of you encountering the truly ugly side of this job. The side that puts the life of any CSI on the line. It's scared us all to know how close we came to losing you."

"Warrick didn't seem to care that much," Greg muttered. "All he did was yell at me once we were out of that basement."

"Trust me. Warrick _does_ care. He was scared the other day, and he reacted in anger because of the situation. He was angry at himself for leaving you alone downstairs in that house. He was angry that the officers hadn't truly cleared the house. He was angry that you hadn't alerted him or the officers that you'd found something. But do you know what he was the angriest about?"

"The fact I screwed up?" Greg asked tearfully.

"No, Greg," Catherine shook her head. "He was angry at himself for not being able to protect you from what happened. You're like a little brother to him. You're like a little brother to Nicky too. Both of them do their best to look out for you. You got hurt while Warrick was at the scene, and he's blamed himself for it."

Greg didn't know how to respond to that. All he could remember was Warrick yelling at him while at the scene.

"We've all been in it long enough to know the dangers. It wasn't easy for us to watch you start going out in the field," Catherine reasoned. "For me, seeing you go out in the field for the first time was like watching Lindsey go off to her first day of Kindergarten. I knew she had to do it, but it was so hard to let go of her hand and let her do it on her own."

"Except in Kindergarten, there's no gun-wielding maniac waiting around the corner to shoot you," Greg commented darkly.

"Well…" Catherine paused. "In some cases, that's not true."

Greg cringed, remembering a school shooting that had occurred four months prior where three elementary students and a teacher had died. The shooter managed to escape but was found a few hours later. It was a case that he had remained in the lab for. He knew he wouldn't have been able to handle the sight at the scene.

"My point is," Catherine continued. "You're part of our family. It's always hard to not worry about any family member after they've gone through something like you did. When I heard that it was you who had gotten shot at the scene, I feared the worst. I didn't know any details until Grissom called me to say you'd be fine."

"How do you handle it, Cath?" Greg suddenly asked. He didn't know why he asked it.

"Handle what?"

"How do you handle all the things you see out in the field?" his voice was barely a whisper. He crossed his arms over his chest again to hide his shaking hands. "How do you not let everything get to you?"

"Well," Catherine wasn't sure how to answer that. "I leave it here. Once I walk out those doors to go home, I leave it all behind. I don't take it home with me. That's the key to all of it. Don't take it with you."

"What if it follows you?"

Catherine finally realized what Greg meant. It took her a few seconds to realize he was trembling all over. His gaze was lowered, unable to meet hers any longer. Catherine had to push aside her motherly instincts that were screaming for her to hug the young man in front of her.

"I don't know what to tell you," she told him honestly. There really was no good answer for that question. "Talking about it helps. You know you can talk to any of us or the department psychologist. And I'm really sorry to cut this short, but I have to meet up with Warrick. We've got a robbery turned homicide to look into. If you need to talk later, you can always come by my office or give me a call."

Greg nodded. "Thanks, Catherine."

"Anytime," she smiled and gave him a quick hug. "Hang in there, Greg."

He stood in the hallway for a moment. He really didn't want to go home. They were already short-staffed, and he still had a ton of paperwork to do. He could always take a quick nap in the break room and get back to work.

Greg wandered the hall with not particular destination in mind. Just as he passed the Trace lab, the door opened to reveal a rather surprised looking David Hodges. The two men seemingly lived to torment each other with jokes, sarcasm, and any other method one found useful in irritating the other. The lab tech regarded Greg curiously. For once, it looked like Hodges was at a loss for words.

"What's the matter, Hodges?" Greg questioned. "You don't have anything to say about me screwing up during an investigation? Surely you have a joke about it."

"You know, I think for once a joke isn't appropriate," Hodges said thoughtfully and smiled a little. "Although if it'd make you feel better, I can make one."

"I'm pretty sure there's nothing you can do that will make me feel better," Greg replied seriously.

"Didn't I warn you the day that shooting happened in the 'hood that you should start carrying a gun?" Hodges questioned. "Why won't you carry one?"

"Don't you remember what I told you then?"

"Yeah, but I was hoping maybe by now you would have realized I was right."

"Hodges, if you only stopped me to talk so you could grill me on carrying a gun, then I think this conversation is over."

Hodges' smile faded. "Actually, I wanted to tell you that what happened the other day did scare me. I heard someone mention a CSI had been shot, and then I heard your name…"

"Oh, so now that I could've been killed you want to be nice to me?"

"Well, _G,_" Hodges used a nickname to let Greg know he was about to give him a sarcastic reply. "I think I've tried being nice to you before, but _you're _the one who likes to be the smartass."

"You usually start it," Greg replied, sounding like a kid teasing a classmate.

"And I usually finish it," Hodges couldn't stop himself from smiling.

"You know I'll always be their favorite lab tech, right?"

"There's only one problem with that," Hodges pointed out, smirking.

"Oh, yeah?"

"You're not a lab tech anymore," Hodges's smile broadened. "So, I guess that makes _me _their favorite now."

"You wish," Greg countered. "You're the most annoying tech this lab has had."

"Me? Annoying?" Hodges gasped, feigning offense. "Please. Everyone loves me."

"They love you about as much as dogs love fleas," Greg chuckled.

Hodges suddenly grinned broadly. He looked as though he had just found a clue that would crack a case wide open. Greg couldn't figure out why. For Hodges, the answer was simple. All day he had watched people treat Greg like a child. Most were offering their sympathies or telling him they were sorry. Hodges knew that what Greg really needed was for someone to act normally with him. So that's what he did in hopes it would make Greg realize things could still be relatively normal after what happened. It seemed to work as Greg finally smiled for the first time since returning to work. Hodges wanted to say something about it, but he figured some things were better left unsaid.

"Care to enlighten me on why you suddenly look so happy?" Greg tried to stifle another laugh.

"Oh, no reason," Hodges said with a shrug. "Well, I've got work to do."

A moment of awkward silence passed between them. Hodges turned to go back into his lab.

"Hodges?"

The lab tech turned back around. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"I don't believe it. Greg Sanders actually thanked me and seems to mean it?" Hodges acted as though he was surprised before getting serious. "Why are you thanking me?"

"You know why."

Hodges nodded. His plan had worked.

"I'm just glad you're all right," Hodges grinned. "Did you really think I'd cut you any slack? You know it's my life's goal to annoy you every chance I get, right?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way, H."

Greg laughed quietly as he turned and walked away. Hodges shook his head and went back to work. It was the first time in three days that anyone had treated Greg remotely the same as they had before what happened in Culverson's home. He headed to the locker room, changed clothes, and got ready to go home. Usually a conversation with Hodges left him slightly annoyed. Today, it was the only conversation that had actually made him smile.

He was just passing the receptionist desk when he saw his supervisor speaking with three people. He assumed it was the family of a victim from one of the cases. He remained just by the front desk and tried not to make it so obvious he was staring at them. The mother and father held onto each other's hands tightly as Grissom talked to them. The daughter had a hand on her mother's arm. There were tears in her eyes as she listened to Grissom speak.

Greg felt his stomach lurch when he recognized the young woman. It was Ashley Newton's older sister, Hannah. Greg remembered talking to her the day after Ashley had disappeared because she was the only relative who lived in Las Vegas. She suddenly noticed him standing there. Her gaze locked with his for a few seconds. Grissom turned around to look at Greg before looking back at the family. Grissom said something else to the family before turning to approach Greg. The CSI had a momentary urge to turn and run away as fast as he could.

"Ashley Newton's family," Grissom informed him even though he knew Greg had already figured out who they were. "They're here to get her body and take it home."

"Do they know?" Greg asked quietly.

"Know what?" Grissom questioned.

"That I…" Greg trailed off, unsure of what to say exactly. "Do they know that I was there when she died?"

"I told them you and Warrick were the two CSIs in the house," Grissom kept his voice low. "They asked if either of you saw what happened."

"And you told them I did?"

"No," Grissom answered. "All I've told them so far is that nobody knew Culverson was hiding in the basement until he fired that shot. Do you want them to know? I can leave that detail out. They know who was responsible for their daughter's death, and it wasn't you, Greg."

"But I was there," Greg pointed out, looking past Grissom to the family then back at Grissom. "I could've done something. They should know that."

"So, you want them to know you were in that basement and saw her die?"

"I just want them to know the truth."

"Maybe you should tell them then," Grissom suggested.

The thought of having to tell Ashley Newton's family the truth made Greg's stomach lurch violently. He shook his head at his supervisor's suggestion. He couldn't do it. There was no way he could face the girl's family. He felt his hands shake even more than they already were.

"I can't," Greg said shakily. "I can't tell them I'm the reason she died. I can't do it. Don't make me do it. Please don't make me."

"Greg," Grissom spoke calmly, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Relax, all right? You don't have to tell them. I will, only if you're sure that's what you want."

Greg nodded. "They need to know."

"All right," Grissom started to turn back toward the family but turned back to Greg quickly. "Greg?"

"What?"

"You are _not_ the reason that Ashley Newton died," Grissom said firmly before his expression softened. "Greg, I need you to be honest with me. Did Culverson say anything to you that would make you believe you're responsible?"

Subconsciously, Greg's right hand moved to cover his left bicep. Culverson's words ran through his mind again. '_The scar from that gunshot wound will be a perfect, permanent reminder of what a failure you were tonight.'_

"No," Greg shook his head.

The look on Grissom's face told Greg that his supervisor knew he was possibly hiding something. Greg looked down at the floor. Grissom said nothing more before going back to the family. Greg kept his head low as he walked by them to leave.

He stepped outside and finally realized just how long he had been at the lab. It had been yesterday evening when he came in. He had spent nearly a full twenty-four hours in the lab. Greg looked toward the setting sun. Another day was coming to an end. Another day that he managed to survive. Greg took a step toward the parking lot when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was forcibly turned around to face an angry Mr. Newton.

"Why didn't you save her?" Mr. Newton grabbed the collar of Greg's shirt.

"Mr. Newton, I—"

Mr. Newton aimed a punch at Greg's midsection. It knocked the breath out of the young CSI. Greg tried to pull away from the angry father. Another punch hit him in the stomach. Greg couldn't stop himself from crying out in pain.

"You could have saved her!" Mr. Newton yelled angrily. His steel gray eyes narrowed. "Why didn't you?"

He let go of Greg's collar before swinging his fist one more time. It connected with the right side of Greg's face. Greg doubled over as yet another punch hit his midsection. He heard voices yelling and his attacker was pulled back. Greg dropped to his knees, hugging his arms around his midsection. Two officers had pulled Mr. Newton away as a frightened Mrs. Newton stood nearby with tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Let me go!" Mr. Newton yelled. He tried to get away from the officers.

"Mr. Newton," Grissom's voice cut in. "I'd advise you rethink going after CSI Sanders again. Do you really want to get into trouble for assaulting a member of the LVPD?"

"That bastard could have saved my daughter!" Mr. Newton glared at Greg. "He should be the one in the morgue. Not Ashley!"

Greg flinched at the man's words. He tried to get his breathing back under control and willed his entire body to stop shaking. Two officers escorted Mr. and Mrs. Newton back inside the building. Grissom started to approach Greg.

"I'll be okay, Grissom," Greg looked up at him. "Go make sure Mr. Newton doesn't get charged with assaulting me. He had a right to be angry."

"But he didn't have a right to attack you."

"He's a father who knows his daughter could've been saved," Greg raised a hand to rub his cheek. "I'd probably do the same if I was in his position."

"You're too nice for your own good, you know that?" Grissom approached him and helped him. "I didn't think he would go after you like that. I would've followed him out if I thought—"

"It's not your fault," Greg winced as he stood up. "I think I'm going to go home."

"Will you be okay to drive home? I can get Nick to take you."

"No, I'll be fine. Go make sure they aren't trying to arrest him."

"Okay," Grissom studied Greg for a few seconds. "Take tomorrow off, Greg."

"But—"

"You heard me," Grissom said sternly. "The only reason I want to see you in the lab tomorrow is if something big happens and we actually need you here."

"Fine," Greg muttered.

Grissom hurried back inside. Greg slowly walked toward his car. The few blows Mr. Newton had managed to land had definitely done some damage. Not enough damage to break anything, but enough that Greg knew he would be feeling it for a day or two. He made it to his car before he had to take a moment to catch his breath. He leaned down, hands on the hood of his car, and closed his eyes.

"Hey, you okay?" an unfamiliar voice asked. Greg slowly opened his eyes and looked to see a worried brunette by his side. Her hand rested on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry about my dad. He's so distraught over what happened to Ashley, and when Mr. Grissom mentioned you saw what happened, I guess dad felt like he needed someone to blame since he couldn't physically get ahold of the man who actually did kill my baby sister."

"He has a right to be angry," Greg straightened up to face her. "And if it counts for anything, I truly am sorry about Ashley, Hannah."

"You remembered my name," she said, seeming surprised.

"Of course I did," Greg replied. He struggled to keep his emotions at bay. "I haven't been able to forget your name ever since I promised I'd find your sister and bring her back. Only, I guess, I broke that promise."

"No, you didn't," Hannah said tearfully. "Mr. Sanders, you found my sister and you brought her back to us. You kept your promise."

"Call me Greg," his voice wavered. "I meant that I would find her and bring her back alive. I failed to do that."

"Greg," Hannah reached out to gently touch his cheek where her father had hit him. "You didn't fail. That man was connected to other kidnappings where the girls were never found. You brought my sister back to us and we have closure instead of wondering where my sister's body is."

Greg turned away from her. Something in her touch was comforting, yet at the same time it made him want to completely unravel. He had let her sister die, and she was the one trying to comfort him. The whole situation seemed a little backwards to him.

"You're not angry at me?"

"Why would I be angry?"

"Because I could've saved her!" Greg finally exploded. Hannah took a step back. "I watched her die, and there's a chance I could've done something to save her! I failed her! And your dad is right! I should be in the morgue! Your sister didn't deserve to die!"

Hannah had tears in her eyes once Greg finished. Greg's chest rose and fell painfully as he tried to calm himself down. He hated himself for losing it like that. Hannah didn't deserve it. He was both angry and embarrassed about his behavior. Greg turned away quickly to leave, stopping instantly when pain shot through his torso. He hissed in pain and clutched his side.

"Easy," Hannah's voice cut in. She immediately had an arm around him to steady him. "Do you think you should go to a hospital to make sure my dad didn't seriously hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine," Greg said through clenched teeth.

"I'm so sorry this happened," Hannah's voice was barely a whisper. "You had to watch my sister die. My dad beat the hell out of you. You shouldn't have to deal with any of this."

Before Greg could register what was happening, he wrapped his arms around Hannah and hugged her. Hannah buried her face in his chest and cried. Greg held onto her and started to cry along with her. The past few days had been emotionally draining as he tried not to lose it in front of anyone. Now, he was standing in the parking lot and crying with someone who was basically a stranger to him.

"Sorry," Hannah suddenly pulled away and frantically wiped away her tears. "I don't need to be adding to whatever you have going on."

"Don't worry about it," Greg smiled small, wiping his own tears away.

"Say, when's the last time you ate?"

"Not too long ago, but I didn't have much of an appetite then. Why?"

"I feel like I owe it to you to take you out to dinner. To thank you."

"Thank me?"

"You kept your promise, Greg," Hannah smiled through more tears that threatened to fall. "You brought my sister back. I know it didn't happen the way you wanted it to, but you promised you'd bring her back. And you did."

"You're serious?"

"Yeah," Hannah nodded. "Plus, I feel horrible about my dad attacking you like that."

"Maybe I should get beat up more often, then," Greg grinned. "If it means a pretty woman will want to have dinner with me."

Hannah snorted as she suppressed a laugh. "So, is that a yes?"

Greg shrugged. "But what about your parents?"

"I'll let mom handle dad," Hannah looked back toward the crime lab then back at Greg. "Besides, I drove here on my own. They have a rental car they drove. So, am I going to get a definite answer. Yes or no?"

"Yes," Greg smiled. "I'll go, but only under one condition."

"What's that?"

"I'm buying," he grinned as she frowned. "No, don't try to argue. Do you want to meet somewhere or ride together? You're welcome to ride with me."

"Well, I think," Hannah said thoughtfully. "That if you're buying, then I should drive. I mean, if you're okay with that. I know I'm just a stranger to you."

"I'll ride with you," Greg interrupted. "It's not like I'm in a hurry to go home anyway. You can drop me off back here to get my car later."

"Then let's go!" Hannah laughed.

She looped her arm through Greg's. He followed her to her car with a smile on his face. Something about Hannah Newton made him smile more than he had in a long time.


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you sure about this?" Hannah asked as she and Greg arrived at her car. She finally pulled her arm away from his. "I mean, we just met. And I really have no idea why I had the nerve to ask you out to dinner."

Hannah looked down and picked at an invisible piece of fuzz on the sleeve of her long-sleeved shirt. Her sudden look of embarrassment amused Greg. While Hannah was uncertain about why she had asked him out to dinner, Greg was even more uncertain as to why he agreed to go so easily. He barely knew her, yet something told him she was sincere in everything she had said.

"I have to admit it is a little weird," Greg chuckled nervously. "Are you sure you really want to go out to dinner with the guy who let your sister get killed?"

"Greg," Hannah sighed. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Don't blame yourself for what happened to my sister."

"Didn't Grissom tell you what happened?"

"He told us that you were in the basement and saw what happened to Ashley," Hannah's eyes misted over. "I'm so sorry you had to witness something so awful."

"He didn't tell you the truth, did he?"

"What—"

"Your sister begged me to save her life!" Greg blurted out. "She looked right at me! I could have done something to save her! Culverson was right! I'm a failure! Your sister died because I was too afraid to save her!"

For the second time in just a few minutes, Greg had lost control of his emotions. He had hidden his emotions well once returning to work. Now he stood face to face with one person on the planet who should hate him. Yet she never tried to blame him for what happened. After the last few days, it had become too much. He closed his eyes in an attempt to shut everything out for a few seconds.

"Greg, take it easy," Hannah's voice barely registered with him. Her hand gently rested on his arm. He opened his eyes again to look at her. "What happened to my sister wasn't your fault."

Greg simply shook his head. Hannah locked her gaze with his. The worry written on her face made him wonder just how much she could tell he was unnerved just by being around her.

"You know what?" Hannah smiled faintly. "How about we reschedule dinner? You look like you may not be feeling up to it."

"I'm sorry," Greg muttered.

"I should be the one apologizing," Hannah said quickly with a nervous laugh. "I mean, after all you went through, now you've had to face the family of someone you saw get killed. I imagine it has to be a lot to deal with."

Greg just nodded at her statement. It was true. A lot had happened since he began his field training and finally became a CSI. Greg often wondered if he truly had what it took to remain out in the field or if he should ask for a job back in the lab.

"Greg?"

"What?"

"Would you, uh… would you like me to give you a ride home?" Hannah offered. She looked at his trembling hands.

Greg thought about it. Did he really want Hannah to know where he lived? That could be a potentially dangerous idea given that he barely knew her. What if she wanted revenge for Ashley's death and was only playing him so he would walk into a trap? Greg quickly pushed those thoughts away. Hannah seemed harmless. He could easily go back inside and ask Nick to give him a ride home. He could call Warrick in the morning to ask him to bring him back for his car. The only thing he was sure of was that he knew he was too shaken to drive home himself.

"I don't want you going out of your way."

"I won't be," she flashed him a smile. "I live here in Vegas."

"Oh."

Hannah reached out to take hold of one of his trembling hands. Greg tried to pry his hand away. Hannah refused to let go.

"I know I'll never know just how awful it was to watch Ashley die," Hannah's voice wavered slightly as she gently squeezed his hand. "But I want you to know that I don't blame you. Whatever happened in that house… I'm sorry you had to see it. Nobody should have to witness something like that."

Once again, her touch made him unravel. Hannah quickly pulled Greg into a tight embrace. He clung to her as though she was the only lifeline he had left. Hannah smoothed a hand up and down his back in an attempt to calm him. Greg had no idea how a complete stranger could make him fall apart. He had faced victims' relatives numerous times and always managed to keep it together.

But the difference now was those victims had all been dead by the time he arrived on a scene.

"What the hell are you doing?" an irritated voice shocked Greg into pulling away from Hannah.

"Dad," Hannah warned. "Don't you dare."

"Brian, leave the young man alone," Hannah's mother pleaded.

Greg looked at the man now standing a few feet away. The father's rage was still obvious. Greg braced himself for another possible assault.

"Lisa, don't you understand he let Ashley die?" his asked before glaring at Greg. "And now he's getting cozy with the only daughter we have left!"

"Dad, please," Hannah stepped forward to put herself between Greg and her father. "Put yourself in his shoes for a minute—"

"If I was in his shoes, we'd be planning a birthday party for Ashley this weekend. Not her funeral!"

Greg suddenly felt sick. He turned and went a few feet away before what little bit of food he had eaten earlier came back up. He doubled over, hands on his knees, and struggled to regain some sense of control over his body. The sounds of Hannah arguing with her father made him feel even worse. He slowly straightened back up and turned around.

"We'll discuss this later," Hannah's father glared at her. "Right now, your mother and I are leaving to go work out the final details for getting your sister home."

Hannah merely nodded before her parents walked off. She turned to look at Greg before approaching him.

"Greg, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you still okay with me giving you a ride home?"

Greg nodded.

"Come on," Hannah said softly. "I'll take you home."

Greg got into Hannah's car. The second he sat down in the passenger seat he felt even more drained. He fastened his seatbelt and rested his head against the window. Mr. Newton's attack had left him sore, but he did his best to hide that detail from Hannah. He gave Hannah his address. The two were quickly on the road.

"Do you know where that's at?"

"Oh, yeah," Hannah mused. "You know, I lived in an apartment in the same complex for four months last year."

"No way."

"Yeah," Hannah said quietly. "We actually met once. Although you probably didn't recognize it was me since my hair was dyed blonde then."

"Wait, were you the blonde that I ran into in the parking lot one evening?"

Hannah laughed. "Yeah, that was me."

"I was running late for work," Greg remembered that day. "I was looking down at my phone and reading the text messages from my co-workers. I wasn't paying attention, and the next thing I know, I ran into you."

"Ran into me?" Hannah laughed. "You knocked me down! You looked at me like I was going to kill you or something even though I didn't say anything except to ask you to watch where you were going next time."

"I helped you up, and for some reason, you were the one that apologized."

"I guess that was just a reflex," Hannah quickly flashed him a smile as she stopped the car at a traffic light that turned red. "Although I have to admit, you were kinda cute standing there trying to give me an apology back. Then you saw the scrape on my arm, and I thought you were really going to panic on me. You apologized so many times I had to tell you to stop."

"I didn't like the fact I hurt you," Greg looked away from her, turning his attention to the floorboard.

"I've had worse injuries," Hannah laughed the incident off.

"It wasn't exactly the best way to make a first impression, huh?" Greg laughed weakly. "I don't think I ever saw you again after that day though."

"I was in the process of packing things up in my apartment. I moved out a couple days later."

"Guess that explains why I couldn't find you a few days later when I finally worked up the courage to see if you'd be willing to go out to dinner with me so I could attempt to properly apologize."

"You were going to ask me out?" Hannah almost laughed. "That's kind of funny considering how many times I almost stopped by the complex to talk to you. Just a shame that our second meeting isn't under the best circumstances either."

"Yeah," Greg sighed heavily.

He could hardly believe his luck. His first impression on Hannah Newton had been a disaster. His second chance meeting with her was even worse. Now it made sense as to why he had felt she was familiar when he interviewed her after Ashley disappeared. Hannah had never once made any indication that she had met Greg before.

Greg fell silent and focused on the scenery that blurred by once the traffic lined turned green. Thoughts ran rampant through his mind. The major one being the fact he got into a car with someone he barely knew. He risked a glance at Hannah. A thought crossed his mind that maybe she wasn't the nice person he thought she was.

'_Stop it,'_ he scolded himself. _'Hannah isn't a bad person. She could've done something already if she wanted to.'_

* * *

Hannah took the hint from Greg's sudden silence. It pained her to know just how he felt about her sister's death. As she slowed the car to a stop at another traffic light, she looked toward the passenger seat. Greg had fallen asleep. She could tell at the crime lab that he was tired, but she had underestimated just how tired he really was. Her thoughts drifted to the events at the crime lab. She hated the fact her father went after Greg and attacked him. She watched Greg shift in the seat. His arms protectively wrapped around his midsection. Hannah frowned, knowing he hadn't been entirely truthful with her in how much her father had hurt him.

When she finally arrived at the apartment complex, she pulled into a vacant parking spot. Hannah felt guilty for having to wake Greg up. She gently shook his shoulder. Greg stirred a little, but didn't wake up.

"No!" Greg shouted. Hannah jerked her hand away. "Please! Don't kill her!"

Hannah knew the sounds of someone in the middle of a nightmare. She quickly got out of the car and rushed to the passenger side to open the door. Greg continued muttering in his sleep. His eyes were closed tightly as he struggled with whatever images where playing in his mind.

"Greg, wake up," Hannah tried again.

This time her voice seemed to snap him out of it. Greg leaned forward quickly only to be yanked back by the seatbelt. He struggled against the restraint.

"Hey," Hannah lightly grabbed hold of his right arm. "It's just the seatbelt."

"Yeah…" Greg gasped and fumbled with the fastener a few seconds before getting the belt undone.

Hannah could tell how much he was embarrassed by the episode. She patiently waited for him to get his breathing back under control. Hannah didn't want to make him feel any worse by saying anything. Greg got out of the car and averted his gaze as he closed the passenger door. Hannah quietly walked beside him to his apartment. She still said nothing as Greg nearly dropped his keys when trying to unlock the door. He stepped inside and turned a light on before motioning for Hannah to come inside. She stepped into the apartment and closed the door. Greg had his back to her.

"You were dreaming about what happened to Ashley, weren't you?"

"Yeah," Greg said before slowly turning to face her. "I have been ever since…"

The haunted look in Greg's eyes made Hannah's heart sink. It made Hannah wish even more that her sister hadn't died. Hannah had always been close to her sister. Ashley was eight years younger than Hannah. Despite the age difference, Hannah and Ashley were often mistaken for twins. Hannah blamed that on Ashley always seeming older than she truly was. Hannah had prayed nearly nonstop that her sister would be found alive. Ashley's death came as devastating news. The loss of her sister would haunt her for the rest of her life, but it would haunt Greg even more.

"I wish there was something I could do," Hannah said feebly. "I know I can't erase that memory from your mind. I can't go back and change things to get a better outcome. But I'm willing to lend an ear if you decide to talk about what happened."

"Thanks," he said, stifling a yawn.

"If you want, I can come by tomorrow morning. Maybe we can go out for breakfast before I take you to get your car?"

"Sounds good," Greg smiled at her.

"Greg, no matter what happened in that house, Ashley's death wasn't your fault."

Hannah wasn't sure why she suddenly said that. She guessed it was because she felt like Greg needed some more reassurance that what happened was out of his control. Although Hannah really didn't know the whole story about what happened. While listening to Greg's supervisor tell them about what happened, Hannah got the sense that he hadn't told them everything.

"You don't know what happened—" Greg began.

"That doesn't matter," Hannah cut him off. "All I needed was for my sister to be found. I prayed she'd be brought back alive, but sometimes prayers are left unanswered. I don't know why, but sometimes that's just how it works. I'll never understand why Ashley had to die. My sister was a brilliant young woman with such a promising future, and…"

Hannah suddenly felt the dam burst. The tears she kept at bay in order to stay strong for her parents suddenly came flooding down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Greg's voice was much closer than it had been.

Hannah became aware of his arms around her as she finally broke down. She tried to stop the tears from falling. Five minutes later, she finally managed to pull herself away from Greg. The last thing he needed was for her crying on his shoulder and making him feel even worse about Ashley's death.

"I better get going," she sniffled.

"Are you going to be okay driving home?"

"Yeah," she nodded, wiping away the last tear from her cheek. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it."

"My parents are probably at my house by now," Hannah told him quickly. "I better get going before they start worrying about where I am. They're probably heading home as soon as they finalize the details for getting my sister's body back home."

"Back home?"

"My family is originally from Tennessee. I've lived in Vegas for two years though."

"I thought you sounded like you had a bit of a southern accent," Greg smiled softly. "You definitely didn't sound like someone who's lived in Vegas their whole life."

"Yeah. You know, Ashley…" Hannah's voice cracked. "Ashley was in Vegas for an internship she was doing. Mom and Dad were supposed to fly in two days from now so we could all be together for her birthday."

"I'm sorry," Greg apologized once again.

"At least she's not still in the hands of that monster," Hannah tried to point out the silver lining before changing the subject. "How about I come over sometime around nine tomorrow morning?"

"Works for me."

"All right," Hannah tried to smile at him, but she wasn't sure if it could be a called a true smile. "See you then. Get some rest, okay?"

"I'll try," Greg replied halfheartedly.

Hannah only nodded before turning around to leave. She was worried about Greg. Everything about the way he looked and even spoke told her he was taking Ashley's death extremely hard, even though he barely knew her. Hannah did want to know what truly happened when her sister died. She just wasn't willing to push Greg to his breaking point by asking him to talk about it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Just an FYI, I'm sort of making this up as I go along so updates will not be posted regularly. I'll try to update once a week though, but as I'm a university student getting ready for an internship in a week, updates may become less frequent. And many thanks for the reviews, follows, and favorites on this story!**

**Anyway, enough of my rambling. Hopefully you enjoy chapter 4! **

* * *

The next morning dawned gray and cloudy as a rainstorm loomed on the horizon. Hannah helped her parents load their suitcases into the trunk of the rental car. Her parents had managed to secure a small, private jet for their flight home. Their flight back home to Tennessee left soon, and they just wanted to get to the airport to make sure their precious cargo had been handled with extreme care. Hannah knew it was one of the few instances her parents really used their wealth to any sort of advantage.

"We'll call you once we get home," her mother hugged her.

"Have a safe flight," Hannah hugged her tight. "Let me know when you and dad decide on the arrangements. I'll come home once you let me know."

"You could just come with us today," her dad suggested as he shut the trunk.

"I sort of have plans this morning that I don't think I want to cancel," Hannah replied vaguely.

"Would those plans happen to involve that young CSI?" her mother questioned.

"You're going to spend time with the guy who let your sister get killed?"' her father asked in disbelief. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Dad, he wasn't the one who pulled the trigger," Hannah reasoned. "If you had taken just five seconds yesterday, you would've realized that he's hurting over Ashley's death as much as we are, and he didn't even know her. He has to live with the memory of watching her die."

"He also has to live with knowing he could've done something to save her," her dad argued. "Did you know that he never even tried to save your sister? He just stood there and watched her get killed. He's no hero, Hannah. Stop acting like he is."

"I'm not," Hannah glared at her father. "Ashley's death is bothering him more than you realize, dad. He fell asleep in my car when I gave him a ride home yesterday. He had a nightmare just as I started to wake him up. He's reliving Ashley's death over and over when he's asleep."

"Brian, she has a point. Besides, you heard what was said yesterday. He was unarmed, and the man who killed Ashley shot at him too. It had to be a terrifying situation for him."

"Now you're defending the man who let Ashley die?"

"Mom, dad, please," Hannah interjected. "Don't start arguing. I promise you that Greg isn't a horrible person. He feels awful about what happened to Ashley, and he feels so guilty about her dying."

Her father simply turned toward the car, telling her over his shoulder, "I'll have your mother call when we finally make it home."

Hannah knew the conversation was over. Her father would, for now, remain angry at Greg. Her mother seemed unsure of what to say or do so she simply got into the car. Hannah remained standing in her driveway as she watched her parents leave. Once they were out of sight, she hurried to get ready to leave.

She had worried about Greg all night after knowing he had nightmares about Ashley's death. It amazed her to know just how a stranger could be so affected by her sister's death. A part of her wondered if being around Greg was helping matters. Especially after how upset he had been the evening before.

Those thoughts were quickly pushed away as she left to go back to Greg's apartment. When she arrived, he opened the door almost as soon as she knocked. She noticed he still looked as upset as he had the day before, but he was smiling very faintly. Hannah laughed when she took a look at his blonde hair. It stuck out in almost every direction. Somehow, it made him look even younger than he really was.

"What's so funny?" Greg questioned.

"Your hair," she laughed again. "You look like you just got out of bed."

"I honestly did about half an hour ago."

"You look tired," Hannah commented. "And how are you feeling? I know my dad beat the hell out of you yesterday."

"Yeah, well, you saw yesterday why I haven't gotten much sleep lately," he commented quietly. "I'm still a little sore, but I'm okay."

That wasn't what Hannah wanted to hear. She hated knowing how much Ashley's death was affecting him. Greg looked around the room as though he was trying to avoid her gaze after admitting the truth. It made Hannah feel even worse knowing that her father's actions were still causing him a little pain. She decided to quickly change the subject.

"Do you still want to go out for breakfast before I take you back to get your car?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Let's go."

She let Greg choose where they ate. It surprised her that he chose Frank's. It was a restaurant she frequented. She wondered how many times she had probably passed by him in the small restaurant without even noticing. Greg became quiet and withdrawn once they arrived.

He never ordered anything to eat once they took a seat in a booth. Only a cup of coffee. Hannah felt bad for ordering a little bit of food, but she hoped that maybe she could talk Greg into sharing it with her. She knew he needed to eat something.

She sensed that Greg wasn't in the mood to be that talkative just yet. The waitress returned with their coffee. It was only then that Greg chose to speak.

"You didn't say anything, but I hope this place is okay with you," Greg looked at her from across the table. "I mean, I know it's not exactly a fancy place or anything."

"Do I look like the kind of girl who wants to eat at a fancy place?" Hannah questioned with a laugh. "I'm sure I look so _fancy_ in this faded long-sleeve shirt and jeans with tears in them."

Greg laughed. "Okay, you got me. I guess I was afraid you were only going along with my choice so I wouldn't feel bad."

"It's fine, Greg," she assured him.

"So, I've been wondering," he suddenly changed the subject. "You said your family is from Tennessee. So what made you decide to move all the way out here?"

"I spent my twenty-first birthday in Vegas, and I fell in love with the city while I was out here. Well, I fell in love with the city's history. It's so fascinating. I actually moved out here once I graduated from East Tennessee State University a few years ago."

"I'm guessing you were a history major of some sort then?"

"Nope," Hannah shook her head. "I was a Parks and Recreation Management major. Now, I'm a park ranger for Valley of Fire State Park."

"No way!"

"I'll never understand why people are surprised to find that out," Hannah laughed. "But yeah, that's what I do. What about you? How'd you end up as a CSI?"

The question came out before Hannah realized what she asked. Greg's expression momentarily darkened. Hannah feared she had asked the wrong question. Maybe bringing up his career wasn't such a good idea. For a couple minutes, Greg never said anything. Hannah nearly tried to change the subject just as Greg spoke.

"I started out as the DNA lab tech," Greg finally answered. "After a few years, I decided I wanted to get out of the lab so I asked Grissom about becoming a CSI. I barely made it though."

"What do you mean?"

"I failed my first proficiency," Greg sighed. "Nobody told me that it wasn't a good idea to use the bathroom at a crime scene without clearing the bathroom first. Well, they told me, but only after the fact. Grissom had to fail me for that, but he let me have another chance."

"He must have really believed in you then."

"The whole team did. They were all so excited when I finally became a CSI."

"It has to be a tough job," Hannah tried to keep the conversation going. If Greg was willing to talk this much, maybe he would open up more about what happened to Ashley.

"Nothing in the world can prepare you for seeing the aftermath of human brutality," Greg said before taking a sip of his coffee. "The rest of the team have been doing it so long they're almost desensitized to it. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to it, especially after what happened to Ashley."

Hannah reached across the table and rested her hand on his. Words seemed unnecessary for the time being. Greg held her gaze for just a few seconds before looking down at the table.

"Well, well," a man suddenly stood beside their table. "What do we have here, Greggo? A morning date?"

"I guess that explains why he took the day off, huh?" the dark-skinned man beside him joked.

Hannah watched as Greg faintly blushed at the other men's comments. He slowly pulled his hand from under hers.

"And you are?" Hannah looked at them.

"Nick Stokes," the first man answered then nodded toward the man beside him. "And this is Warrick Brown. We work with Greg."

"Don't you two have work to be doing?" Greg suddenly asked.

"We worked all night. We took a break to get something to eat," Warrick answered.

"So, are you going to introduce us to your lady friend?" Nick asked Greg.

"Guys, this is Hannah," Greg said slowly.

"Nice to meet you," Hannah smiled at them.

"Likewise," Nick smiled back.

She wondered if they really knew who she was. Greg failed to mention her last name. She guessed it was because they wouldn't know who she was if they didn't know her last name.

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend," Warrick chuckled. "Where have you been hiding her?"

"Yeah," Nick chimed in. "Were you afraid she'd leave you for one of us because we're cooler?"

"Oh, ha-ha," Greg faked a laugh.

"Lighten up, Greggo," Nick said without a laugh. "You two lovebirds have fun."

As the duo walked away, Hannah couldn't stop herself from laughing. Greg looked even more embarrassed than he had when Nick first said something.

"They don't know who I am, do they?"

"Obviously not," Greg replied.

"Is there a reason you didn't tell them my last name?"

"They don't have to know everything," he looked at her. "I hope they didn't offend you."

"Offend me?" Hannah scoffed. "I thought it was funny! They must be good friends of yours for you to let them joke like they did."

"I've known them both since I started working in the lab. They're like older brothers to me. They give me a hard time, but they do their best to look out for me."

"Oh, I get it."

"Get what?"

"You didn't tell them my last name because you're afraid they would think I'm trying to advantage of you once they realized who I am."

"Something like that," Greg shrugged.

The waitress arrived with Hannah's food, cutting off the reply she was about to give him. After the waitress left, Hannah felt bad for eating in front of Greg.

"Greg, when's the last time you actually ate something?"

"I don't know," he said tiredly as he eyed the food on her plate.

"Will you at least try to eat something now?" she asked. "You can't keep living on very little sleep and no food. You're heading for disaster that way."

"I'll be all right," he tried to assure her. Hannah saw through it though.

"Come on, Greg, don't be like that," Hannah grinned, picking up a piece of bacon and holding it up. "No man can resist bacon. Try. I dare you."

She stifled a laugh as she continued to hold it up. Greg seemed to realize she wasn't going to take no for an answer and reached to take the piece of bacon from her. Hannah smiled as he ate it.

"Told you," she laughed. "It's impossible to resist bacon!"

"You're something else, you know that?" Greg tried not to laugh.

"I'm just being a friend, Greg."

* * *

Greg felt much better after they left Frank's. His undeniable hunger eventually made him listen to Hannah's insistence that he try to eat something. The drive to the lab was just as silent as the one to Frank's had been. The only difference was that the silence was a lot more comfortable. Greg's mood had lightened considerably since spending time with Hannah. Even the lingering thoughts of what happened to her sister didn't bring him down as much as he thought they would. He knew Hannah wanted to know about what happened, but she never tried to push him for any details. He wanted to tell her, but his fear of how she would react kept him from it.

"Well, this is your stop," Hannah said, pulling into an empty parking spot at the lab. "Would you be interested in hanging out again sometime?"

"You'd want to?"

"Sure I would," Hannah answered. She grabbed a pen and piece of paper from her purse and quickly wrote her number down. "Give me a call sometime."

Greg took the piece of paper from her and put it in his pocket.

"And call me if you ever need someone to talk to. I don't care what it's about. I'll be there to listen if you need someone, okay?"

"Thanks," he smiled at her. "Well, I'll let you go, but I'd definitely love to hang out again soon."

"See you later. Take care of yourself, all right?"

The concern in her voice made Greg wonder why Hannah cared so much about him. He felt he didn't deserve her caring about him like she seemed to.

"I'll try," he said before getting out of her car.

He watched her back out of the parking space and leave before turning around to go inside the lab. It might be his day off, but they couldn't keep him away from the lab. He wandered through until he passed the AV lab. Archie, the AV tech, waved at Greg when he spotted him. Greg stepped inside the room to talk to him.

"Aren't you supposed to be off today?" Archie questioned.

"Yeah, but I had to come back to get my car. I thought I'd come in for a few minutes. What are you doing?"

"Checking surveillance footage on The Strip," Archie pointed toward the computer screen. "I've been trying to figure out how many angles we have of that drive-by that happened last night."

"Drive-by?"

"It's been all over the news today. It happened late last night. Two people killed. One in the hospital, barely alive. Nick and Warrick have been working nearly nonstop since last night to collect evidence and talk to witnesses."

"So that's the work they said they had to be doing," Greg remembered.

"Yeah," Archie answered then grinned. "Nick mentioned that he saw you earlier. He said you were out with a girl this morning."

Greg rolled his eyes. "I swear nothing around here stays private."

"Why do you sound so surprised by that? I thought you would've figured that out a long time ago. So, who was she?"

"I'll let you get back to work," Greg ended the conversation.

He left before Archie could say anything else. Once in the hall way, he noticed the other lab techs giving him odd looks. He knew then that his breakfast with Hannah was definitely known to pretty much everyone. He wondered if Grissom knew. Greg told himself he didn't need to worry about that. He wasn't breaking any rules by spending time with Hannah.

Something compelled him to head over to the trace lab. It was a decision he regretted almost instantly when he stepped inside the room.

"A little birdy told me you went out on a date this morning," Hodges grinned when Greg approached.

"Yeah, where is that little birdy anyway?" Greg questioned. "It seems to be telling everyone. I'd love to shoot the damn thing."

"Kind of hard to shoot something when you don't carry a gun."

Greg gave him a look that would have probably set the lab tech on fire if he had pyrokinetic abilities. Hodges held his gaze. The two fell into an angry staring contest that neither one was going to lose without a ton of effort.

"Before you two decide to kill each other," a voice chimed in from the doorway. It was Sara. "You should both remember you work in a crime lab. And I need Hodges to run an analysis on this powder Catherine and I found at the scene of a robbery."

Greg looked at Sara with a look that was just a tad less angry than the one he had given Hodges. Sara ignored it and handed an evidence container to Hodges. Then she focused on Greg.

"I thought Grissom told you to take today off?" Sara asked him.

"I'm not on the clock, Sara," Greg couldn't keep the angry edge out of his voice. "I had to come back and get my car."

"Only after he went out on a date first this morning," Hodges put in, carefully taking the lid off the container Sara had handed to him.

"It wasn't a date!" Greg glared at him. "Nick and Warrick really need to learn to keep their mouths shut."

"Well, I'm in no mood to argue about what it actually was," Hodges spoke up then pointed to powder he carefully extracted from the container. "Now, get out of here and leave me alone. I've got work to do."

Greg rolled his eyes before exiting the lab. He didn't have to turn around to know Sara followed him out. He heard her walking behind him.

"Greg," Sara's voice was a lot softer than it had been in the trace lab. "Can we talk?"

"If you're going to ask me if I'm okay or tell me you're sorry, then forget it," Greg snapped, keeping his back to her and continuing on down the hallway.

"I'm not going to ask you if you're okay," she said sadly as she trailed after him. "Because I know you're not."

Greg stopped walking so abruptly that Sara almost walked into him. She took a step back and looked at him.

"I know you're not okay because you've barely talked to any of us since…" she trailed off. A few seconds passed before she spoke again. "Just don't let it consume your life, all right? We've all had that one case that haunts us more than the rest. You can't carry it with you all the time. It isn't healthy. You have to let it go."

"Don't talk to me like you know what I'm dealing with."

"Greg," Sarah sighed heavily. "I'm not trying to say I know what you're going through. What I'm saying is I know how it feels to witness something that makes you wonder how you'll ever move past it. Things will get better."

"I hope so," Greg replied, his voice a lot calmer. "I'm sorry, Sara. I don't mean to be so hateful."

"You're dealing with a lot," Sara gave him a sympathetic smile before giving him a quick hug. "I know it's not like you to act like this."

"I hate feeling like this."

"Nick and Warrick said you seemed pretty happy with that young woman earlier. They told me her name, but I forgot it."

"Her name is Hannah," Greg answered without even thinking. "We had breakfast together. That's it."

"Hannah?" Sara gave him an odd look. "You're not talking about Hannah Newton, are you? Greg, have you lost your mind?"

"That's exactly why I didn't tell Nick and Warrick what her last name is," Greg said pointedly. "I knew it would be taken the wrong way. She gave me a ride home yesterday, and she came back to pick me up for breakfast before bringing me back here to get my car."

"Did she question you about her sister?"

"No," Greg shook his head. "She didn't. I think she wanted to, but she never asked directly."

"Are you sure she's not just trying to give you a guilt trip?"

"She's not like that, Sara," Greg assured her. "I swear."

"You know it's only a matter of time before everyone finally figures out who she is, right?"

"It's not like I'm dating her," Greg shot back. "She gave me a ride home and then went out to breakfast with me this morning before bringing me back here to get my car."

"Just be careful, okay?" Sara warned.

"You act like she's going to lure me into some sort of trap to get revenge for her sister," Greg almost laughed at the absurdity. "Since when did you care so much about who I'm seen with anyway?"

"Since I know you're not in the best shape emotionally," Sara stared him down. "You're vulnerable, Greg. Don't let her take advantage of you."

"Unbelievable," Greg rolled his eyes. "Do you really think I'm stupid enough to let her take advantage of me?"

"I don't think you're stupid," Sara defended. "I do think that maybe you should have another talk with the department psychologist, though."

"How dare you!" Greg said bitterly, his voice carrying down the hall enough to make a few passersby stop and stare. "I told you I'm fine!"

"Greg, please just hear me out," Sara grabbed his arm gently to stop him as he turned around.

He yanked his arm away from her grip. "Leave me alone!"

Greg bolted out of the lab without another word. Between Nick and Warrick telling everyone about his breakfast with Hannah to Sara trying to make him feel like an idiot for spending time with Hannah, he felt like everyone was suddenly second guessing everything he was doing. If they weren't hovering over him or asking him if he was okay, they were giving him sympathetic looks and trying to determine whether or not he should have been cleared to return to work so soon. Greg didn't know how to make sense of everything anymore. He just wanted things to go back to normal, even when he knew things would never be normal again.


End file.
